The Hand Death Dealt
by XoRoxasXoSora
Summary: I never used to be afraid of the dark, especially when I was a little girl. In fact, I loved it. The fact that anything could be hiding in the shadows and that nothing was impossible marveled me. I used to stare outside my large bay window and fantasize about faeries and werewolves in hope that one day I would get to meet one. But not like this. Sam X OC


**New story? Oh yeaaaahh! I've recently been obsessed with Supernatural and this idea hit me like a ton of bricks. That, and I have an obsession with Sam Winchester. ~ **

**Anyway, as a warning, this story is more mature than other one's I have written and it does contain swearing in it and may contain explicit and gory scenes later. It won't get too explicit though, because I turn red at the thought of writing a lemon, haha. Also, this story will veer a little off course from the main story line because even though I love love love Supernatural, I don't feel like going back over every episode and writing word for word. I don't like stories like that anyway; too boring.**

**Well, please tell me what you think, how you feel, what could be better, if I should continue, etc! :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any recognizable characters and/or objects. I only own the plot and the OC.**

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Chapter One

Take a Dive into the Dark

Whenever I heard the word _demon_, I would imagine some red horned creature with fangs protruding from its mouth and a forked tongue. Never would I have imagined something like this. I didn't think that it would look so…_human_. But then again, that's because technically it was.

He stood before me, with spiky brown hair falling into his black eyes. Only, a moment ago, his eyes weren't black and instead, they were a brilliant hazel. Long, dark eyelashes cast a shadow upon his brown skin and a perfectly straight nose gave him an innocent, boyish look. And honestly, if he weren't possessed by some revenge seeking demon, I would have to label him as extremely handsome.

Not only that, but he was tall. The man towered threateningly over me from my spot on the warm, damp ground. My wrists were attached on a silver chain tied firmly around my wrists that wound around a pipe protruding from the concrete floor. It was so tight that the flesh on my wrists was starting to turn red from being rubbed raw. All in all, this was _not_ how I had expected my Saturday night to go down.

"It's been a while," His deep voice spoke. The sound of it reminded me of my father's: throaty and demanding authority. "Since I've had any fun."

His voice sent shivers down my spine and I automatically pressed my sore back against the cool pipe behind me. To the left of the demon, my backpack lay open on its side; my ghost hunting supplies sprawled across the unclean floor. The warehouse wasn't big, but it wasn't small either. It was mostly empty but it was extremely run down and half of the ceiling was missing, opening up to the dark sky. Moonlight shone through the open ceiling and broken glass windows, casting ominous shadows to run across the half standing walls. Not only was it dark, but it was humid as well, causing the long dark curls on my head to frizz. I knew what I must have looked like, tied up to a pipe like a wild animal. The blood from my busted lip had dried, leaving a dry cracked feeling on my chin. And I knew that fear had driven the rosy red from my cheeks, causing me to appear pale and I could feel my hands becoming clammy.

"How lucky am I," The demon continued on, beginning to slowly pace back and forth in front of me. He passed by the entrance more than once as if showing me that I could escape and knowing that I couldn't reach it. "To have found you, hm? Aren't I just _lucky_?"

I watched him, not daring to take my eye off of him in fear that he would do something to hurt me. All the while, I was attempting to slip my wrists free from the chains that wrapped around them. It was pointless, but at least worth a try.

"I asked a question," It paused and raised a perfectly sculpted brow in my direction before smirking. "Or are you so terrified that you can't even speak?"

"W-w-what," I cleared my throat before continuing in attempt to be firm. "What do you want from me?"

He only smirked his full lips in response before slowly walking towards me. He took his time, knowing that with each and every step fear pumped through my system. A dry dark hand reached out and ran through my hair.

"Why, I just want to have some fun is all." His long fingers caressed my face before I jerked my head away in disgust.

"I think I'll have to pass on that offer." I swallowed thickly and automatically flinched when the demon's deep laugh echoed throughout the building. He placed an arm around his waist and threw his head back in amusement. I took the time to lick my dry, cracked lips, wincing in pain as my tongue ran over where my bottom lip split in half. I stared towards the entrance yet again, wishing that I could just get up and run. Not that I would make it very far anyway. I wanted out, and I wanted out _now_.

So perhaps I had a guardian angel, or maybe it was just plain luck, but right at that moment my prayers were answered. In the form of two very handsome, very stupid men. They burst through a door to the back of the warehouse that I hadn't noticed before, sending wood splintering off in different directions. One barged in before the other; he was shorter and had the other guy towering over him by a few feet.

Turning, the demon jerked is head in the direction of the men just in time to doge out of the way of a stream of what appeared to be water. The shorter guy had an arm extended out, holding a flask as liquid dripped down the side onto the warehouse floor, staining the ground a dark grey. He had short, dirty blonde hair in a messy but attractive style. His straight broad shoulders and skillfully placed feet automatically gave him an aura of confidence. It was either that, or the cocky smirk that tugged up at the corners of his full lips. He had a straight nose and high brows with a bit of blonde stubble lining his strong jaw. This guy was all-American and completely different from the man that stood beside him.

The taller one was big, and I don't mean heavy-set big, I mean Sasquatch big. He had broad shoulders and arms that showed just how much man power he had. And I knew that underneath his grey plaid button up shirt and brown jacket, his body was ripped. Now he wasn't pro wrestler on steroid ripped, but he wasn't tiny either. His long, dark brown hair was pushed behind his ears and curled at the ends. And he was staring at me as if analyzing me with dark eyes and unfortunately I couldn't tell what color they were from my position. After a split second, he quickly switched his attention back to the demon.

"The Winchester brothers?" The dark skinned man questioned, tilting his head in surprise. "My, my, what are you doing here?"

Winchester brothers? So they were related or something. I looked back and forth between the three of them in confusion, because apparently they all knew each other.

"Look at that, Sammy," The shorter one grinned cockily, twisting the cap back on the silver flask in his hand. "He knows who we are; it's like we're celebrities or something. Maybe we should give him our autograph to take back to Hell."

The taller one, Sammy, ignored his brother and instead began speaking in a foreign language. It wasn't any kind that I had ever heard and my eyes widened in fear as the demon started convulsing in front of me. His head snapped from side to side as if he was in pain and he stumbled backwards, throwing a hand out in desperation. All of a sudden, the shorter brother went flying backwards into a half way standing column, grunting as he made contact. And I couldn't help it as a gasp flew out of my mouth. Holy _shit_!

His brother didn't falter as he continued to chant in that strange tongue and the demon attempted to fight it. I could see his teeth clenching in pain before he finally threw his head back and a black, cloud like substance spewed from his mouth and into the air. His screams rebounded off the walls as it continued to rise before exploding into a burst of bright light. Clamping my eyes shut I turned my head in attempt to shield myself.

The light slowly faded from behind my eyelids and I slowly opened them, blinking to readjust to the dim lighting in the building. Movement caught my eye and I looked over to see the shorter brother picking himself up from the ground. Dusting his dark jacket off, he ran a hand down his back and arched his spine.

"You okay, Dean?" Sammy's voice broke through the silence, this time in English. He had begun to make over to his way over to his brother before he responded.

"Peachy," Dean grunted out. "I think I'll be feeling that in the morning."

After making sure that his brother was okay, he turned towards me. "Hey, are you okay over there?"

I had to clear my constricted throat before responding. "Yeah, I think so."

He moved towards me across the dark warehouse and even in this light I could tell that he was extremely attractive. Hell, both of those men were. Sammy kneeled down beside me while his brother went to check on the formerly possessed man passed out cold on the ground. The taller brother gently took my tiny wrists in his big hands and examined the chains tangled half-assed around them.

"He got you pretty tied down," He spoke, fishing into the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out two metal objects. One looked like some sort of scalpel and the other had a bent looking design at the end. "What's your name?"

"Annaliegh. Annaleigh Cutley," I watched as he skillfully inserted both of the metal objects into the lock that held the chain to the pipe. He twisted them around for a moment before a light clicking sound admitted into the air and the lock popped open. Sammy slid it off the chain before beginning to unwrap it from the pipe first and then gently from my wrists.

As soon as the humid air hit my bruised flesh, relief flooded my body and I had to resist from flinging myself at the man beside me. The chains dropped to the floor and the he stood up after slipping the metal objects back into his pocket. He reached down and offered me a hand and I gratefully accepted, my butt begging for relief from the hard concrete floor.

"Thanks," Finally vertical again, I had to look up and _up_ into the hazel eyes of my savior. "Who are you guys?"

"I'm Sam Winchester," He then gestured to his brother, whom was now making his way towards us. "And that's my brother, Dean."

"Nice to meet you guys, and well, thanks for saving me too." I awkwardly smiled as I glanced back and forth between the two. Dean had just joined us and he flirtatiously smiled back at me.

"So you're not freaking out like most people would," He lifted a dirty blond brow and stared at me with pretty forest green eyes. "Care to explain what happened and why you have all this stuff?"

I looked at my army green backpack that he held up for examination and shifted in slight embarrassment. Heat was rising to my cheeks and I could feel it. "Uh, would you believe me if I said I hunted ghosts?"

The two brothers exchanged a look, a silent conversation passing between them before turning their attention back to me. "Ghosts?"

"You hunt ghosts?" Dean finished Sam's thought and narrowed his eyes at me in thought. "Like, for fun?"

"Um," I shifted my sore feet, wishing badly for a hot bath. I knew that I couldn't have been that pretty of a sight. And to be honest, I was embarrassed to be standing in front of two handsome men. "That sounded crazier than it should have."

But then again, given the events of the night, I don't think that things could have gotten any stranger. Besides, these two men had just…gotten rid of a _demon_ like it was nothing, so I should be the one thinking that _they _were crazy.

"Well, it doesn't sound like the funnest activity to come up with on a Saturday night." Dean spoke and I could practically feel the sarcasm floating in the air. His lips quirked in a cutesy smirk, his eyes shining with amusement.

"Dean," Sam rolled his eyes to the ceiling in chastisement at his brother before turning his attention to me. His expression softened and I instantly felt calmed by his presence. "Maybe if you explained why that demon was after you, we could understand the situation better."

"Why don't we get out of here first?" His brother shot a scrutinizing look around the place. "This place doesn't exactly encourage story time."

The diner was empty, a few late night stragglers and truckers sitting at the red cushioned booths. The smell of coffee and fried waffles wafted through the air, instantly making my stomach rumble. I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten as I watched a waitress refill an old man's water glass. She continued to make her way down the tiny aisles and towards the small bar that extended from one end of the room to the other. A tall, fatherly like man stood behind it, wiping down the pine counter with a white rag.

The walls were painted a light brown and pictures of various different men lined the far wall. It appeared to be a line of successors that inherited the restaurant. A tiny bell above the door chimed as a costumer left, disappearing into the coming dawn. The sun was starting to rise and I could feel my eyelids start to droop.

Across the table the two brothers, Sam and Dean, sat. Dean was studying the menu with a contemplating look on his face and Sam seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep much like I was. Grasping the warm coffee cup in front of me, I stared into its dark depths lost in thought. The drive had been short, me being too fascinated by the '67 Chevy Impala to really pay attention to our surroundings.

"Can I get y'all anything else?"

We all glanced up to see the waitress standing by our table, pen and pad in hand. Her blond hair was swept back into a high ponytail and some strands fell out to frame her face. Icy blues eyes met each of our stares, silently questioning on whether or not someone was going to order something.

Dean ordered, ticking off numerous items on the menu to the point where I was questioning whether he was actually going to eat all of it. When he was finished, the waitress walked off, Dean's gaze drifting downwards as he watched her hips sashay. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. In the brief hour that I had met him, I could already tell that he was the love 'em and leave 'em type.

After the waitress finally disappeared, he turned his gaze back to me and grinned, winking at me as if knowing I had seen the whole exchange. "So about this whole ghost hunting thing."

I suddenly felt less tired as we finally began to get on the topic of why we were here. My tongue flickered out and ran along my slightly dry lips, poking at the split. On the way, Sam had checked out my cut, cleaning it out with some antiseptic that they apparently just kept handy in the car. But then again, should I have really been surprised?

"When did you start? And why?"

"I, uh, can't really say," I began, catching the hazel eyes of Sam and the green eyes of Dean, looking back and forth between the two brothers. Finally, I glanced back down at the half empty coffee mug in my hands. "I was always fascinated by it, I guess. Since I was a kid. I don't really know why, maybe because my mom was obsessed, I don't know. But when I found out that ghosts were real, I wanted to see for myself."

I never used to be afraid of the dark, especially when I was a little girl. In fact, I loved it. The fact that anything could be hiding in the shadows and that nothing was impossible marveled me. There was nothing that could scare me back then, maybe except for the Burley's huge Rottweiler that lived next door; with its sharp canines and powerful jaws. It was the only thing that haunted my nightmares. There was no fear of a monster hiding under my bed, or a bogeyman lurking inside my closet. Instead, I used to stare outside my large bay window and fantasize about faeries and werewolves in hope that one day I would get to meet one. And my father hated it. He said that I was too imaginative, that I needed to live in reality and forget the things that didn't truly exist. But it was useless because no one could keep my feet planted firmly on the ground, and I was proud of that. It was a trait that I had inherited from my mother and I wouldn't let go of the one thing that linked me to her. My father was hopeful that someday I would grow out of it.

But I never did. Instead, it grew from a fascination into an obsession, following at my heels way into my teenage years. I began to become an avid fan of all things supernatural. From scary movies, to novels, to researching actual hauntings, and to psychic biographies. Everything. My friends teased me that my life had become completely revolved around horror, and technically, it had. And I didn't know why.

Not only that, but it escalated after I turned twenty and I actually started to research haunted buildings. And I mean _real _hauntings. And it didn't stop there. I would stuff my black denim messenger bag chalk full with a camera, salt, and E.M.F. reader, and anything else that could help me document any supernatural finds. Rarely, I found something, but it was never anything big. A ghost like handprint here, a flickering of lights there; nothing too life altering. Except for tonight.

"So you hunt them?" The question came from Sam and he shifted position in the booth, his big frame barely fitting on the bench with his brother.

"Hunt them? Like, killing them, or getting rid of them, whatever?" I raised a brow. "Is that what you guys do? Hunt ghosts."

"Something like that," Dean spoke and I suddenly had a feeling that we should have been having this discussion somewhere more private. "But we hunt other stuff too. There's more than just ghosts that go bump in the night."

"What, like boogeymen?" I half smiled. "The kind that hide in little kid's closets?"

"And demons, vampires, evil clowns, shape shifters. Stuff like that; it's all out there."

At this point I began to grow a little skeptic. Sure, I now knew that demons existed, but all that other stuff absolutely did not. Maybe I had been saved by to heavily attractive men that had a few screws loose. "So you're telling me that you kill vampires that sparkle in the sun? Did you take down Jacob too?"

"You believe in ghosts but you don't believe in every other supernatural being?" Sam smiled, his eyes lighting up in amusement as deep dimples showed themselves on his tan cheeks.

"Well yeah," I shrugged. "There's proof that ghosts are real, but not all that other stuff."

"Well sorry to bust your bubble, princess, but 'all that other stuff' is real." I eyed Dean for a moment, taking in both his and his brother's faces. They were completely serious about this and I hesitated for a second.

"Okay, so say that all that other stuff _does_ exist. What do you do, just track 'em down and take care of 'em?"

"Pretty much; minus a few small details of course."

"Why? Isn't that dangerous or something?" I felt like I was asking a lot of questions tonight.

"It's our job; someone has to do it. Besides, you willingly went into a demon's den, isn't that dangerous?"

"Yeah, well, that was a little bit of a setback," I muttered. "So you just voluntarily do it. I highly doubt that you get paid for…_that_."

"It's a family thing," Sam's lips tugged up at the corners a bit in an attempt at a smile. "We've kinda been doing it since we were kids."

"Like a family business." I pursed my lips, ignoring the sting that the movement brought to my cut. I let all of the information sink in for a few minutes and they let me, giving me the time to digest what they just told me.

Somehow, for some reason, I believed them. Whether or not it was just pure womanly instinct or the fact that they seemed like they knew what they were doing when they killed that demon earlier, I believed them.

The food arrived then, the waitress having to set down a small compact table in order to fit all of the assortments of plates on it. She placed them in front of a happy looking Dean, making sure to brush against his arm as she pulled away. And this didn't go unnoticed by him, who smirked up at her and sent her a wink. She smiled, quietly giggling as she picked up and folded to small table and walked away.

Turning his attention to the now steaming piles of food in front of him, Dean hummed happily and un-wrapped a fork from his napkin. "I've been waiting for you all day, baby."

With that, he began digging into a piece of apple pie, completely ignoring the other courses in front of him. Dean seemed to forget the conversation as he put the fork in his mouth, closing his eyes in pleasure. I raised a brow. He was a character all right.

"So, Annaliegh." Sam started, but I interrupted him before he could finish his thought.

"Just call me Anna," I smiled. "I prefer that."

"Okay," Sam smiled in return, the dimples making their way back onto his cheeks. "Anna. What are you gonna do from here? Keep tracking down ghosts?"

"Maybe," I shrugged, sighing at the thought and sinking further down into the booth's bench, hoping to get comfortable. "I don't know. Probably. Although I'd rather not have another run in with some weird ass demon again."

"Take it from us," This came from Dean as he spoke around the food in his mouth and I scrunched my nose at his gross tableside manners. "You don't want to go back out there. Because you _will_ find more demons, or worse. And we won't be around to save you again."

"Dean's right," His brother spoke up after taking a sip from his now empty glass of water. The ice cubes rattled together as he swirled the straw around. "You could get hurt, or worse. It's not worth it."

"Yeah, maybe take up a new hobby. Like knitting, or exotic dancing." Dean smirked around his fork and met my eyes. I rolled mine and broke the contact.

"Here," Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a ball point pen, clicking the end and making the tip pop out. He grabbed a napkin from the cheap silver holder and scribbled down two different sets of numbers. Sliding it over to me, he tapped it with the other end of the pen. "I wrote down our numbers, just in case something happens. So next time you run into something, give us a call."

I eyed the neatly scribed numbers before sliding it into the back pocket of my jeans with murmured thanks. He smiled in return and stood up to go, stretching his arms above his head to get out the kinks. His brother followed suit a moment after, leaving a table full of empty plates behind and it surprised me. Who could actually eat _that much_ food?

"Do you need a ride back or something?" Dean offered, slipping a few bills onto the table. "We could drop you off someplace before we head out."

"No, I can call I cab," I politely declined. They had done enough for me tonight already and I was completely in their debt. "Are you guys leaving town?"

He nodded as Sam pulled on his jacket, sliding his long arms into the brown sleeves. "There's a case in another town that we need to check out."

Nodding as well, I smiled a little in farewell. "Well, you guys be safe. And thanks again, you know, for the whole life saving thing."

"No problem. Just make sure to stay out of trouble." Sam gave me a stern look before turning to follow his brother out.

"No promises." I grinned, watching as they both disappeared through the double doors. The two brothers got into their car before starting it and putting it in reverse, finally pulling off onto the road and driving off. Who would have thought that my night would turn out like that? I guess, in some messed up way, I was glad to have been captured by that demon. Because that was how I met the Winchester brothers. And that wouldn't be the last time either; nowhere near the last time.

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**Good? Bad? Please tell me what you think in a _Review~_ Should I continue it? Is it worth it? You tell me. :D**


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